


Likewise

by Libbers4211



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bombs, Deja Vu, F/M, Romance, a hint of doctor who and lord of the rings, just a slight reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Libbers4211/pseuds/Libbers4211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place during Series 3, after the wedding.</p><p>John and Sherlock are going to investigate a case when they get quite a surprise- Lestrade already has a consulting detective on the scene. One with a familiar name....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Likewise

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic so please tell me what you thought!!

Likewise 

This all starts on a normal evening, say 6:00, on a Wednesday in 221B. John is updating his blog and Sherlock is playing his violin for Mrs. Hudson. The phone ringing is heard in the background behind the sound of the violin. 

"I've got it," John says, already knowing that Sherlock won't. He gets up out of his favorite chair by the skull. "Hello?" He answers. It's Lestrade on the other end. 

 

"What? What do you mean?" John replies, looking very confused. At this point Sherlock is tired of the confusion, and he comes and snatches the phone from John.  
"What?" Sherlock says, glancing at John. "Right. On my way." He hangs up without so much as a good bye. Lestrade's voice on the other end could still be heard as Sherlock puts the phone on the receiver to hang up.

“No Sher-". There is nothing more as the phone hits the receiver. Sherlock hurries off to his room to change looking perturbed and the slightest bit confused. 

 

"Come on, John, there's been a murder!” John grabs his coat and shoes and begins putting them on when Sherlock comes back into the main room with his signature coat and turned-up collar. "Come on, John!" Sherlock says rudely. 

 

"I'm hurrying! What's with the hurry anyway?" John asks, annoyed as he is hurried out the door. "There's already a detective there," replies Sherlock.  
"Well, what's the big deal?" John asks as they go out into the cold London night. "There's always a Scotland Yard detective there."

 

"This detective isn't from Scotland Yard," Sherlock says as they hurry to the crime scene.  
"Then ... where is he from ?"  
"Nowhere, John! Think!" Sherlock yells, annoyed at the interruption of his thoughts. 

 

"We'll if he isn't from anywhere, then where's he from?"  
Sherlock suddenly stops and smiles, as if accepting a challenge. "Of course," he whispers as he reaches the only possible conclusion."Come on, John, we've got a consulting detective to meet."

_

There’s an old abandoned house in surprisingly good shape. As the boys walk in there's a man in a nice suit lying dead on the floor. Close by, there's a woman wearing dark, well fitting jeans, a red flowing shirt, a light brown coat that comes to the mid thigh and is tied tight at the waist with the collar turned up as well as a pair of matching knee-high boots. She has long, dark red hair and side swept bangs. She is leaning over the body and seeming to be investigating.

 

She looks up as the two enter looking none too happy. John looks a bit shocked as he never expected the detective to be a girl. 

"Who the hell are you two then?" she states, watching them curiously. Lestrade, over to the side begins to say something but before he can get out a word, the woman shoots her arm out holds out her index finger.  
"Shut up, Lestrade, I'm thinking," she says.  
"Who are you to say something like that?" John says to her. Sherlock, lost in thought, just stares at the woman, trying to deduce her like he does everyone else. Only this time it proves to be a tad more difficult. She comes in front of the two and starts to explain the crime scene.  
"This man has been here no more than 5 hours his coat is still damp from the showers earlier. You can clearly tell that he has a good marriage but has had a few affairs because of the wearing down on the inside of his ring. There is no sign of a struggle which means the body was probably brought here by someone strong judging by his weight. There are no infections or injuries anywhere which means this could have been injection but there are no needle holes or redness which means it was probably poison." She rambles this off very quickly, surprising all three of the men present. She remindes John of Sherlock in many ways. Suddenly the woman stops and looks over at John and Sherlock.  
"So then. I guess we will be meeting at my flat to discuss this further,” she says.  
Finally, John has had enough.  
"We know nothing about you or where you live. We don't even know your name and you don't know ours." She looks down at John dead in the eye and rather rapidly replies looking perturbed.  
"Oh, but I know a lot about you two. I know you're an army doctor sent home from Afghanistan, returned a few years ago. You have a sister who you won't visit likely because you don't trust her because she's an alcoholic more likely because she walked out on her wife and you think that is just horrible. And I know that you used to have a limp you psychiatrist thought was psych asthmatic correctly as I can see and you have lost it while living with this man for a few years. I know that people think you two are gay and it bothers you because you have a wife. I can also tell that this man hurt you once and you don't know if you should forgive him yet." The woman turns to Sherlock and, being near his height, looks him directly in the eye. "I know that as a child you have big father troubles leading to mother troubles, causing you to be practically raised be your older brother and now you both still dearly care for each other but all you do is argue and you think he is overprotective. I know that you've seen lots of death, and have very few - if no - friends. I can also tell that you have a great mind and you know that everyone knows it but they still make fun of you and it hurts even though you try very hard to hide and dismiss it. You’re a detective but not an employed one because you have no badge. Another consulting detective - how nice! I can also tell that you can do the exact same thing I'm doing to you now for a living and have been trying to deduce me this whole time and this time it's a little bit harder isn't it? This is bothering you a lot and you're trying to hide signs so I'll stop. Now that we are all on the same page of what we are working with, tell me your names." All three men stand shocked. They thought only Sherlock could do that and Sherlock only knew that he, Moriarty, and Mycroft could. John was having déjà vu. He spoke up first.

 

“I'm John Watson and this is-" 

"Sherlock," the man says, cutting his friend off. “Sherlock Holmes.”  
"Ah. I've heard of you two. Quite famous. Would you like to look over the crime scene Mr. Holmes?"  
"Of course," Sherlock replies. He steps in and the woman shows him everything and explains her investigation in depth. "Notice anything I may have missed? Though I doubt there will be anything."  
"You seem to have gotten it all," says Sherlock as he raises up from crouching looking at the body. He stops and stares at the woman. "Figured me out yet?" She asks with a challening smile.  
"I think I have," Sherlock replies cooly.  
"Go for it then!"  
Sherlock looks her over once more. "You're originally from London but you've lived in America for a few years judging by your accent. You aren't a detective either but you deduce a lot. You're a professional, successful photographer who seems to come from a good family but you've all been a bit traumatized by your brother who your family thought would never turn out like he did though you still miss him dearly from his sudden death. Am I correct, Ms. Moriarty?"  
"Very good! Well then," she says, “We'll be meeting at my place... say, one tomorrow?" The woman starts walking out the door but John, who has been talking to Lestrade and hasn't heard much of her and Sherlock's conversation, calls to her as she grabs the door knob.  
"Wait! Where do you live, exactly?"  
"Oh," she replies as she turns around "142A Johnson avenue." She opens the door and steps out when John asks, "Your name?" The woman leans half her body out of the partially closed door.

"The name's Jen. Jen Moriarty." Then she steps out the door with a wink, not to be seen until tomorrow.

 

It’s noon when they get back to 221B. John is worried about whether he and Sherlock should go to this mysterious Jen's house. 

"I don't think we should go. Last time there was a Moriarty, you were dead for two years.” 

 

"John, for all we know she could be just a threat as he was or she could be good which, with her mind, may help every now and then," says Sherlock. "I think I'll go see if Moriarty's sibling is as interesting as he was. Are you coming, John?" 

 

John thinks for a few seconds before replying, "No, I don't think I will. Mary and I have a date later and I don't want to cancel again. You go ahead; just don't go and disappear again." 

"All right then; see you tomorrow. I'll be careful, John, don't worry,” Sherlock adds reassuringly. And off he goes, coat collar turned up and hair ruffled as always, leaving John behind at 221B.

Sherlock arrives at 142A Johnson avenue. He immediately goes to the door and knocks. He is let in and he does not say a word, merely taking note of the flat. Jen's flat is small about the size of 221B. The walls are a blue green color and the ceiling is purple. The furniture is modern and there's a wooden lace see-through divider dividing the living room from the kitchen. There are many full book shelves in the walls. Jen shows him to her living room as she goes off to get tea.

"Well then. Figure anything else out that I may have missed? Though I doubt it," Jen says as she comes back with the tea. 

 

"I've had a case like this before with your brother. I had saliva sent to my friend Molly for analysis for poison that was used last time," replies Sherlock. 

"Well, if this is that close to Jim's murder then it may be part of his crime circle or an admirer. What he did, though I hate to admit it was remarkable. He probably has a few wannabes. And I know Molly. Nice girl. I was going to analyze some myself but I figured you had already covered that,"she replied.  
Sherlock, a bit annoyed, says, "How do you do that? Deduce everything. I mean, I know how but I thought I had always been the only consulting detective." 

 

"Well, Jim taught me things when we were kids. He committed that murder when he was 11, you know," Jen begins. Sherlock nods, listening. “But we had a deal. He taught me things and I taught him things. It worked. Made me a genius; made him a twisted genius. I still don't see how he managed to kill that kid under my mother's nose. I always knew he did it, but he threatened to kill me if I told. Anyway, I learned many other things from experience. I started to push out feeling and fill my mind with important things. And now here I am today. Genius sister of a homicidal maniac. But he's gone now. Suppose I could try to make a new name for the Moriarty family. But enough about my history. How did you know I was a Moriarty when we met?" 

 

"Well," Sherlock begins, "For starters, you look a lot like your brother, minus the hair. You actually sound a bit like him and act the same way. You must have rubbed off on each other." "Well then. I'd heard that from many other people but never thought much of it. If you say it then I suppose it must be true," Jen decides.

 

Sherlock nods and the two continue to talk for hours more. 

__

"I'm home," John says as he comes in his door. There's no reply. He figures that Mary just isn't home yet or went out. He goes to get ready in the bathroom when he sees it. His living room. Trashed. He runs into his bedroom and through the kitchen. There are things scattered everywhere. Destroyed. Immediately, he calls Sherlock. 

 

Before Sherlock can utter a hello at the other end John starts to talk. 

"Sherlock, my house is trashed. There's been a struggle. Mary is gone."  
“Be right there. And watch for anymore people that may still be there.  
Sherlock, back at Jen’s house, grabs his coat and begins to leave. Jen starts asking questions. 

"Was that John? Where are you going?" 

"Yes. His house has been trashed. His wife is gone. I'm going to his house."  
“Well I’m coming then," Jen says. Sherlock whips around immediately.  
"No you're not," he sneers.  
"Yea I am," she says. "I happen to like John and this could be part of the case ya know."  
"Fine.” In a few moments he and Jen climb into a cab.

 

By the time Sherlock and Jen arrive at John's house Lestrade and his team are already there.  
"Why are they here?" Sherlock asks John. 

"Why? My wife is missing, Sherlock, what else am I to do? I tried calling her. That didn't work. She would have been home by now so I know something is wrong. Sherlock, what is going on?" "Well… let's go investigate," Jen says, nudging Sherlock.

 

As the three enter, Jen and Sherlock immediately start noticing many things and they both start spitting out everything that happened. 

 

"There are multiple muddy shoe prints on the floor could be from the same person," Jen starts. "But they're not because every other 2 have a different print," Sherlock finishes. "There were multiple people here to overpower her-" 

 

"...But she fought back like I would expect her to which helped contribute to this mess." 

“Well you're both geniuses! Now where is she?" John yells.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rings, which is strange because the only person who would call him now other than Lestrade or Mycroft is John and he is right there. He answers and puts the phone on speaker. After Sherlock says hello a familiar crying voice speaks up on the other end.

 

"Well, Sherlock... on the right track, aren't we?" The voice is Mary. 

John immediately notices and starts to yell. "Mary! Mary where are you?" 

 

The voice keeps talking. "The first is familiar. This should be too." The voice is sobbing hard now. "Getting déjà vu Mr. Holmes? I'm sure you know who I have this time. Better hurry. 4 hours to come find me this time. You have help. Your usual clue: I'll tell you this time. Remember remember the fifth of November. Good luck." And the line goes dead. 

 

"Remember remember the fifth of November? Isn't that a poem?" Jen asks. 

"Yes," says Sherlock. "It was part of our first case when we came back."  
"Well then," John interrupts. “Which place would it be? Who would try to kill me? Might as well try to kill my wife there too!"  
"No!" Jen yells suddenly. "That would be too easy. If the killers are trying to be my brother then there would be more clues. While I spent time in America there was a very popular movie. V for Vendetta. It had that poem in it." 

"Mary has a friend named Vendetta. Would she be involved?" John says. 

"What does Vendetta do for a living?" 

"I believe she works at a museum."  
"Then that's where we need to go," finishes Sherlock. And so off the three went to the museum to talk to Vendetta.

 

When they arrive at the museum no one is there. They manage to find Vendetta in her office as she is very high up in the museum staff.

"What do you need?" She asks. "Wh-" Sherlock begins only to be cut off by Jen. 

 

"What is your friend Mary's favorite piece here at the museum?"  
"Well," the woman begins. “Follow me."

 

The group is led to the theatre section of the museum. They are show a pair of masks much like the ones used for theatre symbol. They are connected on the bottom. One is blue and the other is purple but both are mostly white.

 

"This is Mary's favorite. She told me she enjoyed the theatre very much," Vendetta says. 

"Yeah... we go to the West End theatre all the time," John says. The group, leaving Vendetta, rush to the theatre, having only 2 hours left.

The theatre, closed for cleaning, is deserted. John calls Lestrade and the bomb squad. They arrive almost immediately. Everyone rushes inside and, as the result of much searching, find Mary crying and shaking in a supplies closet. The bomb is immediately removed and she runs to John. He is almost to tears too and is comforting her as the ambulance crew looks her over. Sherlock and Jen are off walking in the London night. Both are in long coats with the collars turned up. 

 

"John is really going to want me to find that killer now. I don't know if he will be much help now that he will want to stay with Mary. Keep her safe." 

"Yeah. I'll come help ya so you're not lonely." Jen says. She pauses. “Sherly." 

"Don't call me that."  
"Why not?" 

"Because I've had a long day. So," an annoyed Sherlock mumbles. "How did you know to go to the mask and the theatre?"  
"Well," Jen begins. “That November poem is in V is for Vendetta. Her friend is coincidentally named Vendetta. That must be of some significance. Then John said she works at a museum. That filled the gap for me. If we're so hooked on that movie, there's a mask that's owned by V. If V is for Vendetta then metaphorically thinking, Vendetta owns the mask. Vendetta pretty much owns the museum. I'm sure you can get it from there."  
"Yes and quite remarkable, Ms. Moriarty."  
"Oh please. You would have gotten it eventually. And you can call me Jen ya know. Or, even Jennifer. That's my full name." 

"I figured."  
"Of course you did. Will we ever find the killer?"  
"Probably. Molly told me the poison was the same used with your brother so that's a breakthrough."  
"Well if the killer's so similar to my brother you should meet him soon. My brother liked to meet up with you a lot and try to kill ya didn't he?"  
"Yes, I expect that soon actually if this pattern stays the same."  
"You be sure to let me know before you go anywhere. If this guy's so similar to my brother I'll be of use."  
"I'll be sure to," Sherlock ends with a smile. The two continue walking until they are close to Jen's house. There is a large park next to a large glass building. 

"This is my favorite place - this park here. I do love nature. Makes me feel like I'm in a fairy tale or some of my favorite stories. Did you ever read the Lord of the Rings, Sherlock?" Jen asks. 

 

"No....I've never had much interest in such things," Sherlock says. 

 

"Oh, too bad. Quite a wonderful story it is. If you ever consider reading it, start with The Hobbit. It makes for better understanding." The two wander through the park as they come to a fountain that resembles a house by a large waterfall. "This is my absolute favorite spot," Jen says. "I think it resembles a spot in the book perfectly. Rivendell. I do love it. Especially the way the water reflects that glass building over there." The pair stop and sit on a bench near the fountain. They sit silently until one decides to speak up. 

 

"I'm going to New Zealand," begins Jen. “I hear it's very beautiful. Some people call it Middle Earth. You should come Sherlock. I can tell you're starting to get tired. You need a break. Just a small one. How about coming with me?" 

 

"Oh I couldn't. It's your trip." 

"But Sherlock! After everything you've done? Someone must owe you something. So, I owe you a trip." Sherlock has a momentary flashback and shakes his head. 

"Sherlock? Sherlock!" Jen says when Sherlock seems to stare off for a bit. "You ok?" 

"Yes, I'm fine," he says. 

"Well, I suppose we should be off. It's getting late."  
"Right. See you soon I guess." 

"Ya," Jen finishes. “Sometime soon." The pair stand up and start to leave when Jen gives Sherlock a quick kiss and walked away. Sherlock seems to blush a bit as the two split ways in the night.

 

For the next few days nothing much happens. Sherlock and Jen discuss the crime more but to no prevail. Then on Sunday, there comes a call on Sherlock's phone from the same number that called when they had Mary. "Yes?" He immediately answers. This time the voice is very familiar. In fact he talked to this voice not even two days ago. Jen. As the shaky voice speaks Sherlock slightly begins to panic. This criminal is getting people close to him. He was starting to like and appreciate Jen. Who knows now how long until they have John? The voice says, “Alright Sherlock. Here's another for ya. I'm just starting to have fun and I'm sure you are. You know who this is. Come and find her. You've been to her house so this might just be easy. Your clue today you ask? Ms. Jennifer's favorite thing. I feel this should be easy for you Mr. Holmes. That's why you have exactly two hours to find her. At exactly 7 tonight this bomb will go off. Good luck." And the line goes dead once again. Sherlock immediately phones John. "Jen's been taken this time. I need your help and you can bring Mary since you won't leave her. Meet me at Jen's house now." And off Sherlock runs, to find the one thing Jennifer loves the most, just to save her life.

 

When John arrives at Jen's house the door is wide open as Sherlock is inside rummaging and desperately searching. Only an hour and a half left. He quickly tells John and Mary the clue and they begin looking. Sherlock continues to search most of the house while John takes to the bedroom. Mary begins to help Sherlock but stops. She goes and turns on the television and checks the DVR. 

"Sherlock," she says. “Sherlock!" He finally turns and Mary sighs. "Look." 

 

She scrolls through the entire DVR. All 50 hours. Everything Doctor Who related. Then it clicks for Sherlock. The police box decoration on the wall; the thing he first thought was a pen but, as he realizes, is an item from the show: A sonic screwdriver. "Quick... someone find the location of all the blue police boxes in London."

 

The map of police boxes is crowded. "How will we ever find the right one?" Asks John. "Find the one nearest the BBC," Sherlock says having only an hour left. His phone rings again. Same number as earlier. "What now!?" he demands, already annoyed. "Only an hour, Mr. Holmes. Better hurry. I have twice the explosives this time making for quite the explosion really. I can't wait to see it. Please do take your time," the shakier now voice finishes as the line goes dead once more. "Alright this box is closest to BBC broadcasting station. Let's go," says John as Sherlock is almost already out the door.

Once the three get there they find a note in the box's door. "Well you've made it this far. One more clue I'll give. The last clue. Maybe you'll figure it out. Here ya go: our captive's favorite place." "Favorite place..." Sherlock says. "Quick, John: call Lestrade. Get a bomb squad at the park nearest 142A Johnson Avenue. Now." 

 

"On it," John says. Sherlock hails a taxi and tries to get the quickest way to that park.

 

When they arrive sirens are wailing and lights are flashing. There is only 15 minutes left. Greg comes up to Sherlock. “We can't find anyone or any bomb." Sherlock looks confused. "What? Why not? She's here; we solved it. She has to be here. Did you check the fountain?" 

 

"Yes, Sherlock, we checked everywhere. Then with only 10 minutes left Sherlock's phone goes off. 

 

"Where is she?" he yells into the phone. 

"Woah, Sherlock," Jen's voice replies. "Who ever is doing this is letting me say what I want just as long as I don't give away where I am. Listen to me. You're right I'm here. Remember our conversation. My favorite spots in the park. That's all I can say, I'm about out of time. But if the bomb go-" Sherlock cuts her off. "Don't say that."  
She replies in a shaky yell. "Listen Sherlock! You know the chances of finding me. You're a smart man! Beat the odds, use your mind palace! 9 minutes! Come find me. You were right about the fountain. Remember: the game is on!" And the voice is gone once more.

 

Sherlock stops and sorts everything out. He starts thinking: "Ok... the fountain reminds her of Lord of the Rings which reminds her of New Zealand. But that's too far if the bomber wants us to save her." Then it hits him and he flashbacks to something she said: “I love how the water reflects that glass building over there." 

 

"The glass building!" yells Sherlock. "She's in the glass building."

With 5 minutes left the bomb squad rushes into the building and start evacuating people,trying to find the bomb. Nothing happens for a minute. The team radios in to Lestrade.

 

“The building's clear sir, but we are still going to evacuate." Sherlock steals the radio from Lestrade and demands, "What do you mean the building is clear? There is a bomb strapped to a woman in there with only 2 minutes left to live!" 

 

“We didn't detect anything; didn't see anything. I don't know what else we can do besides evacuate." Suddenly, Sherlock's phone rings once more. Jen's still shaky voice says, “Ya know Sherlock, since I have such little bloody time left I've been thinking. The killer told me who he was. And he knows I'm smart. Why would he tell me if he wasn't sure I was going to explode." The voice stops for few seconds and starts to laugh a bit. "Isn't it funny how life goes Sherlock? One day you're having fun and the next - you're dead! Don't worry about me. I had a fun time with you two blokes. And now I suppose I don't have to live with that last name that so many people curse. Oh well. I guess my time is up Sherlock. I'll miss you two." She sighs and mutters one last sentence. "Goodbye, Mr. Holmes." Big Ben chimes in the distance. 1 toll. John realizes what's happened. 2 tolls. John runs with Mary far off. 3 tolls. He sees Sherlock still standing at the building, watching. 4 tolls. John runs back to Sherlock. 5 tolls. He yells for everyone to run. 6 tolls. He grabs Sherlock and pulls him along as fast as he can. 7 tolls. An explosion rings across the great city of London.

_

A week passes and Sherlock is still angry. He’s obsessed with finding the killer now more than ever, especially since they got Jen. He wishes they would take the story out of the papers. 25 people including Jen were killed. More murders have happened. 6 in fact. 5 people have been strapped to bombs. 2 have been saved. 3 bodies have been found killed by the pill used in the first murder. Whoever it is, Sherlock decides, is almost worse than Moriarty. He didn't go to Jen's funeral. He was too busy trying to find the killer. He is determined to find the killer no matter what.

 

John, on the other hand, is almost fine with it. "I'm fine with one Sherlock," he says to Mary one day. “But two? I might go crazy." 

“Oh ,she wasn't that much like him," Mary tells him.  
"Yes she was," John replies. “She was him from an alternate universe in which he is a girl."  
"Well you don't have to worry about it now, do you? I feel bad for Sherlock. I think he was starting to fancy her just a bit. Or at least he finally found someone who knew what it was like to have a mind like his and wasn't completely insane."

 

A week passes and Sherlock is a little closer to finding who did it when a knock comes on his door. He goes down stairs and checks outside but no one is there. On his mat inside, he finds an envelope. It's sealed with purple wax stamped with a curly "M". He takes it upstairs and opens it. Inside he finds a letter from Mycroft. 

“Brother dear, My spies have found one member of Moriarty's crime circle who has gotten past our defenses. We need you to go take care of him like everyone else. We believe he is the one who has been killing people in your area. Inside is a plane ticket to New Zealand where we believe the man to be in hiding. Leave as soon as you can because the plane leaves today. And you may tell John this time."

Sherlock empties the letter to find a plane ticket. He stops and flashbacks to a few weeks ago when he was with Jen. "I'm going to New Zealand in a few weeks," she had said. He was probably boarding the same plane she was supposed to take. He goes and packs a small bag because he doesn't expect to be there long. He calls John who wants to come along. Sherlock tells him that he needs to stay here safe with Mary. John reluctantly agrees. Sherlock didn't want him to go. After all, this could be dangerous… more so than they desired.

 

When Sherlock arrives at the airport, he discovers that Mycroft had a plane especially for him and he wouldn't be on a plane with a lot of people. He boards, only to see it having a lot of people on it. Sherlock walks down the aisle. He notices that he is really alone on the plane. Every person on there is dead.

Sherlock examines the small plane. Every seat is full. This reminds him of when Moriarty did the same thing. The killer must be on board. Suddenly a voice scares him. A familiar voice.

 

"Seem familiar?" the voice says. Sherlock looks around. He doesn't see anyone alive here. The voice continues. 

"I'm here where I should be. Among the dead. This is where you thought I was right, Mr. Holmes.” 

A person stands up from the front left side. A person that should be dead. As the figure stands up, a gun is pulled out and pointed at Sherlock. As the figure moves into the light on the dimly lit plane, Sherlock can see who it is: Jen. 

 

"Finally decided to come to New Zealand with me then, did you? Well it looks like neither of us will make it there." She moves closer to Sherlock. "I sent that letter you got from your 'brother dear'. Must have been convincing enough to get you here. Clue to finding my killer. You would do anything to find the killer. You were devastated that I got killed. Now it's your turn." She stops and smiles. "You really thought I was dead didn't you? I fooled the great Sherlock Holmes!" She throws her arms up in the air. "Too bad I won't live to tell the world." 

 

Sherlock stares at her. "They found your body.”

 

"Oh Sherlock, Ms. Irene Adler isn't the only one who can do that ya know." She pauses for Sherlock to say something. He just stares, a bit shocked. 

 

“It doesn't feel so good on the other end of the stick does it!? I bet this is how John felt when you came back!" 

 

"Listen to me Jennifer, you don't have to do this," Sherlock starts. "It's not worth it. You've become your brother. Don't you remember? You didn't want to be like him." She stops and stares for a second. She smiles and stares right at Sherlock, a mirror image of Moriarty. 

 

"Oh Sherlock," she says. "My brother was always going to grow up and be a killer. Just not a crazy one. When we taught each other things, he taught me how to kill, I taught him crazy. I made him. I'm exactly like him."  
"Well," replies Sherlock casually, “I must say your family has extraordinary acting skills."  
"Oh I taught my brother that too. I was an amazing liar as a child. And that made me a good actress. That whole Richard Brook thing was a bit odd if I do say so myself. But enough backstory. Any questions Mr. Holmes? I have to say you've been looking a bit confused."  
"Just 2. Why copy your brother? And why are you doing this?" 

Jen points the gun down. "Well before Jim went and killed himself, he figured he would have to commit suicide. He told me and told me to carry it on. He thought you were having as much fun as he was. I asked him what I should do. He said to copy what he did as well as I could and then come into your life and play along. He wanted me to confuse you, play with your emotions, and put you through more hell than he did. I think I did a pretty good job. Jim had planned this for years. I of course agreed to help. I was bored and had never killed anyone. He said it was fun. Might as well try it. Not all of us shoot walls when we are bored, Mr. Holmes. Get ready for the ride; it's gonna be a long one..." Once again, she pauses and adds, “Sherly." 

 

“Alright, we're ready!" She yells to the front of the plane and it begins to move. 

 

"Where are we going?" asks Sherlock. "Well, Mr. Holmes, we will take a nice scenic route where we will see the North Sea and ultimately crash," Jen says sad she finishes with a big gesture while flopping into a chair. She swings her legs over the side into the aisle. "Take a seat, Sherlock! Join the people you'll be with in about an hour. I believe there's a seat up here by me." Sherlock goes to where she is sitting and finds a seat in the middle row by the aisle across from Jen. He sits and stares ahead, glancing at Jen when she speaks. "There's an east wind blowing Sherlock, and it sure is on hell of a wind," she says with a sigh as she looks out a window. He stares at her for a minute, until she finally blurts out, "What?" 

 

Sherlock smiles a bit. "You're forgetting your instincts Ms. Moriarty. I liked you better sane. Much smarter. But I can see you're a nervous, maybe a bit excited or anxious. You just want to get this over with or maybe not want to do this at all. But you're doing it anyway just because you promised your brother and now he's dead and you feel a little responsible. You plan on killing yourself just like Jim before this ride is over."  
Jen gives a sad laugh and stares at the floor. "You're right Sherlock. I don't want to do this. But it was a promise Jim expected me to keep to the grave. I can't back down now. If he were still here, he would laugh at me being weak. That's one difference we had. I might have taught him crazy, but I had more sense than him if you get what I mean. I have a heart. He didn't. Why should I live anyway? If I go back I'll get turned in. Live a life in prison. Like that's any better than death." Sherlock looks up at her and stares her in the eye. "You can come back. With me. I'll be able to reduce the sentence to about five to ten years. You can come and live. And be with me." He looks out the side window. "Better decide quick. We're over the ocean. Death or life with me." He jumps up and grabs Jen and pulls her against him. "We can go back. Get married. Two great similar minds together. Forever."  
Jen looks up at him. "Promise?" 

"Promise," he replies with a smile. Jen looks up and kisses him on the lips and pulls him closer. She stays there for about five seconds and pulls back. She looks at Sherlock dead in the eye and says, “Liar." She steps back quickly and before Sherlock can do anything she pulls the gun up and bites it, just like her brother, and pulls the trigger.

 

Sherlock steps back with his mouth open a little. He was now on a crashing plane with no way off. Jen is lying on the floor, blood pooling around her head. The end of the Moriartys. Sherlock stops and thinks. Surely the pilot doesn't have a death wish. He should have a parachute. Sherlock runs to the front of the plane and busts into the cockpit. The pilot immediately jumps up and punches him. Sherlock backs up and returns the punch and knocks out the pilot. Now he has even less time. He sees a locked compartment on the back wall of the cockpit. He finds a key on the pilot, and opens the box to find a parachute. He goes to the door of the plane, begins to open it, and stops. He pulls his phone out and calls John. "Hello," John says. "John, I just faced Jen. She was alive and was trying to avenge her brother. Long story short I'm on a crashing plane. I'm going to jump but I have a parachute. Call Lestrade and get coast guard or some boats out here. I'm over the North Sea." Sherlock hangs up. He looks back at Jen one more time and jumps.

 

Back in London, Sherlock is at John's house. The medical crew had told John to watch Sherlock for an hour or two, make sure he was ok. Sherlock explained the whole story to John and Mary at their kitchen table. "Did you lie?" asks Mary.  
"What do you mean?" asks Sherlock. 

"Well, she was as smart as you and could read people like you do and she called you a liar. That must mean you lied. Did you?"  
"Yes, I-I suppose I did." Sherlock looks down at the floor, his hair still dripping from falling in the water. 

"You were a brave man, doing all that," Mary says obviously realizing she shouldn't have said that, as she can see that Sherlock is somewhat hurt. She kissed Sherlock on the forehead and left the kitchen.

 

A few days later Sherlock is back in 221B, just arriving from the library. He sets the books on the table and goes off to get tea. He comes back and sits down and opens the book on top. As he reads the book, he realizes that he will have to read all the others if he starts, and they seemed like a lot. But, he decides to read it anyway. He is greatly reminded of Jen as he reads, and he finds himself feeling sad. He tries to focus on his book instead. It's funny, he thinks, how a big series like this can start with a small book like the Hobbit.

As he reads, he begins to like the book. The character Bilbo Baggins reminds him of someone. John, maybe he thinks. However, he has taken a particular liking to the character Smaug.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like me to write something else, message me on tumblr at werenotwelcomehere.tumblr.com
> 
> 06/09/16-- I thought I'd add that I made this when I was like 13, so I apologize if this wasted your time.


End file.
